Sleeping Angels
by Elmblossom17
Summary: Spike and Faye take turns admiring each other in secret.


Sleeping Angels

A Cowboy Bebop Fanfiction

by Elmblossom17, aka Jessica Robinson

04/15/'03

Warnings & Disclaimers Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. I have no money. I am writing this only for my own enjoyment and not financial gain. Please don't sue. Warning #1: this is a Spike X Faye fic, so if so don't like that pairing, you probably won't like this fic. Warning #2: This story is a (slightly) romantic interlude taking place sometime after what in the original series was Episode 26, 'The Real Folk Blues (part 2)'. Warning #3: I subscribe to the 'Spike is alive' theory because: A.) It's just too sad! and B.) How could he get together with Faye if he didn't survive?

Faye was hungry. Really, really hungry. It was the middle of the night, as much as there was ever a 'night' onboard the Bebop. As far as she knew, everyone was asleep, and so she could safely wander around in her sleeping attire without fear of being spotted and laughed off the ship. This had happened to Faye several times before; she would awaken in the middle of the night with an incredible hunger gnawing at her insides. So far she had always managed to get away with her little midnight snack runs without being caught, but god only knew how long she would be able to keep that streak going.  
She got up, and pulled at the hem of her sleeping shirt, trying to make it cover more of her pale, exposed flesh. She debated pulling on her shorts, just in case someone was up and about. Then she rationalized that she was only going to go to the kitchen, find something to eat, and take it back to her room; no one was really likely to be awake at this hour, and so the chances were all in favor of her getting away with it. She shrugged and grinned, and left her room. Well, she stuck her head out the door and looked in both directions first. There was no sign of anyone. She snuck out and down the hall toward the living room, and past it, the kitchenette.  
She was just creeping past the couch when she heard a soft sound. Whirling, she looked around, but there was no one there... She frowned, turned, and continued towards the kitchen door.  
She was almost to the doorway when the soft sound came again. Again, she spun around, and looked to see what had made the sound. From her vantage point, she suddenly noticed a tall, lanky form laying on the low couch in front of the TV, which was on a muted static channel, filling the room with fuzzy gray light and silence.  
She sighed. Of course. The one person she really didn't want to see her like that, naturally, would be the one who showed up to spoil her fun. Then she frowned. Why hadn't he made some snarky comment, some rude, insulting joke? It wasn't like him to let a prime opportunity like this go to waste.  
Unless.  
Faye's face lit up with an evil grin. The lunkhead was asleep. He hadn't seen her. She could go on and get her food.  
Or she could go and stand over him, and stare down at his sleeping face.  
Faye found herself leaning on the back of the couch, gazing down at the unconscious bounty hunter. 'He looks like... Like an angel,' was her stunned thought as she studied his face. The corners of his lips were upturned in a small smile, a genuine smile, not that smirk he so often wore when she looked at him. It made him look like a totally different person. 'Peaceful,' she thought, still slightly shellshocked. 'He looks peaceful.' It was the first time she could recall seeing that particular expression on his face. It looked good on him, too.  
Faye was not ashamed to admit to herself that she found her comrade utterly attractive. She would never admit as much out loud, of course, but she was pretty sure Jet had figured out how she felt for the lunkhead. Ed had asked her point-blank at one point if Faye liked Spike, and Faye had sputtered and denied it so vehemently that Ed had just given her 'sister' a knowing look and a grin and then backflipped off down the hall. Spike, of course, remained oblivious. That was ever the way of it, of course; everybody in the world knew Faye wanted Spike- except Spike.  
Faye sighed softly, her gaze lingering on the cowboy's lips. They looked so soft, so sweet... Faye shook her head, trying to get the notion of kissing him out of her mind. 'It wouldn't be right,' she told herself firmly. 'He's asleep. You'd be taking advantage of him. Don't even think about it'  
But she couldn't get the thought out of her head. The longer she looked at him, the more she wanted to do it. 'Damn you!' she mentally cursed him, growing angry. She wasn't angry at him so much as she was angry at herself for wanting him so much. 'Why did I have to fall for a jerk like you?' she mournfully thought.  
Suddenly, Spike's expression began to change. Faye watched with considerable interest as his face went from peaceful, to surprised, to afraid, to pissed off. He growled inaudibly, and Faye could make out a word on his lips. "Vicious!" he hissed, then bared his teeth in rage. "You bastard"  
Faye was slightly alarmed when Spike's eyes opened, but they were glazed over, completely unaware of the real world. He looked up, past Faye; she wondered exactly what he was seeing. His face changed again. His eyes filled with something akin to horror, or perhaps betrayal. "What is she doing here?" he said angrily, looking at what Faye guessed was Vicious' ghost in his dream.  
"No!" Spike cried suddenly, lifting himself bodily off the couch for a moment, and then faling back down. He closed his eyes again, and Faye saw tears slowly begin to leak from beneath his eyelids. "No...no...please..." he murmured, and Faye felt her heart breaking for him. "No...please, Vicious, let her alone...she doesn't deserve this"  
Faye sighed sadly. She thought she knew what Spike was dreaming about, now. Perhaps it was a memory, or perhaps it was an honest dream, but it was about Vicious, probably hurting someone, someone Spike cared for, a female. That pretty much made it Julia. There was no one else that fit that description.  
Spike thrashed around a little bit, and Faye contemplated trying to wake him up, to stop his nightmare. She didn't know how he would react to being woken up out of a dream like that. He might be violent. He also might be angry with Faye for waking him up.  
Faye looked at his face, and her eyes followed the tear tracks that went over the sides of his head like stripes of paint. His face was contorted with helpless rage- apparently, in his dream, he was powerless to help whomever was being hurt. But when he let loose a pained sob, she knew she couldn't let him go on suffering like that.  
Gingerly, Faye tip-toed around to the front of the couch and knelt just beyond Spike's head. Then, she gently put her hand on his shoulder and shook him, a little bit. At first he didn't respond, so she shook harder. He seemed locked in his dream. So Faye tried another tack.  
She put her face close by his ears and said loudly, "Spike! Wake up, lunkhead"  
Spike's oddly mismatched eyes flew open. They were clear and aware, though slightly confused. "What"  
"You were having a nightmare," Faye replied, moving away from him. "You looked pretty upset, so I woke you up. Sorry"  
He blinked a few times, and then craned his head back to look at her. From his point of view, she was upside down. His eyes widened when he saw what she was wearing. "Uh"  
Faye looked at Spike curiously. "What"  
"Um...ah...that is..." Spike forced his eyes closed. An image of Faye wearing only a shirt and a thong was imprinted on his retinas, but she didn't need to know that. He prayed that she'd never find out, or he'd get his ass whupped. He knew she was perfectly capable of taking him down, because he knew- in his heart of hearts- that he could never actually bring himself to do harm to the lovably spunky little gypsy. She, on the other hand, had no such reservations, as she had shown him so many times before.  
"Something the matter, Spike?" Spike wished he could have recorded that question for posterity; she had not sounded angry, or hurt, or mocking; she had sounded truly, honestly concerned; and she had called him by name. That was something she almost never did. It was always 'lunkhead,' or sometimes 'gaucho.' He even remembered a time when she'd called him 'moss-brain'  
"Uh, n-no," Spike replied quickly, trying to suppress the stutter that plagued him when he was nervous. "Just...um...tired, is all." He opened his eyes again and looked at her, and saw that she had moved toward the kitchen. He blinked, and suddenly felt awfully hungry. "Oh... Are you going to have something to eat"  
Faye stared at Spike, startled. "Um, I was planning on it, why?" She scowled. "I don't care what Jet says, I'll eat when I'm hungry, dammit"  
Spike smirked by reflex. "Fine, fine. I certainly don't mind. Would it bother you if I joined you? I'm suddenly hungry, myself." He wondered vaguely why he was even bothering to ask, and what he would do if she told him she did mind. The prospect was highly unappealing.  
"Do what you like- that's what you always do, anyway," Faye replied flippantly, also on reflex. She winced slightly, hearing how rude she sounded. She cast her gaze down, unable to look him in the eye.  
Spike stood up, stretching and yawning, then rubbing his stomach under his thin t-shirt. "Well, ok, then." He walked towards Faye and the kitchen, and suddenly realized that he had a hell of a problem. Spike winced, and shifted uncomfortably. 'Stupid middle-of-the-night woody,' he thought murderously at his manhood. 'Just...go down! Give up! Nothing doing, buddy, so get lost!' Abruptly Spike wondered if Faye had noticed his 'situation.' From her actions, he guessed she had not.  
Faye turned and headed for the kitchen door. She went on into the little room, Jet's domain, and giggled at the sudden memory that sprung into her head of Jet in his apron. She shook her head, grinning. The old, grizzled ex-cop had become like a... like a father to her, and Ed, that nutty redheaded computer whiz, like a little sister. She was suddenly startled, realizing that the crew of the Bebop had become a family, of sorts, to her. Her eyes misted, as she thought of the family she had lost so long ago.  
Spike finally got himself under control, and went on into the kitchen. He saw Faye standing there, motionless, her head hanging down. He recognized the look on her face that said she was thinking about her past again, and felt a twinge of compassion in his heart. He aggressively ignored it, and simply walked past the female bounty hunter to the 'fridge.  
Faye remained immersed in her thoughts for a moment or two, then shook her head and looked over to see Spike bent over, rummaging in the 'fridge. "Find anything good?" she asked.  
"Not yet," he said, his voice muffled.  
Faye sat down at the table, suddenly feeling slightly depressed. She propped her elbows up on the table and cupped her chin in her hands. Her eyes drifted half-closed, and she tried to pretend that she wasn't ogling Spike's butt.  
Spike wondered if she was looking at his butt. His eyes roamed over the meager contents of the 'fridge, and finally settled on some leftover 'bell-peppers and beef, minus beef.' With a resigned sigh, he pulled the container out and set it on the table. A couple forks later, he and Faye were companionably tucking in, munching their way through the small container in silence.  
They finished sooner than either one had anticipated, and then sat there, avoiding looking directly at each other, and not saying a word. Eventually, Faye got up and walked out of the kitchen. Spike sat at the table for a few moments more, thinking.  
Faye didn't feel like going back to bed, not really. She just wasn't tired anymore. Instead of going back to her room, she sat down on the couch, curled up in one corner of it. The remote was laying on the floor nearby. She picked it up and started flipping channels, trying to find something to watch. Soon her eyes started to glaze over.  
Spike came out of his reverie in the kitchen, shaking his head. He had had a flashback to his childhood- not a pretty scene, either. He didn't want to think about that, though. He got up and went back into the living room area.  
Spike was surprised to see Faye curled up on the couch. Her head was laid against the back, and her eyes were halfway shut. Even as he stood looking down at her, they drifted closed, and she fell asleep. Spike smirked, wondering how she could fall asleep so fast. 'Must be pure talent,' he thought to himself.  
He sat down at the other end of the couch, trying not to stare at his sleeping compatriot. But the temptation proved too great, and finally he stopped trying to pretend he didn't want to look at her.  
Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. Spike could see the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. He studied her face like it was something he had to memorize, to remember forever and ever and ever.  
For the umpteenth time he was struck by the simple beauty that was his Faye. Her skin was pale and smooth, without a sign of a blemish anywhere. Her lashes were long and thick and alluring. Her hair was silky and fell over her face in a purple cloud. Her lips.  
Her lips looked like sweet, fresh, ready-to-be-picked red strawberries, juicy and plump. As he watched, her little pink tongue slipped out and moistened her mouth, and Spike repressed a groan. He didn't want to wake her.  
Spike sighed silently. He didn't know exactly what it was that he felt for the female bounty hunter; but it was without a doubt the most confusing thing he'd ever experienced. When Spike had been with Julia, there had been no doubt in his mind that he loved her. But this... this was a totally different animal.  
This was Faye... his snarky little gypsy, ex-bounty head and con-artist, aka 'Poker Alice,' the one and only. A woman not to be trifled with. A confidant, strong, spirited woman. The antithesis of a damsel in distress.  
Julia had been a damsel in distress. She had needed to be taken care of. She had needed to be protected. Faye had probably never needed that, and probably never would. Spike didn't know why on Earth he should have the great (mis)fortune to fall in love with two such different women, but that definitely seemed to be what had happened. He sighed, again.  
Realizing that Faye probably would wake up extremely cranky if she was allowed to sleep through the night in her current position, Spike got off the couch. He picked her up, intending to carry her to her room, doing his best not to wake her up. He really, really did not want to wake her up.  
Spike tried to ignore the feeling of her naked thigh on his hand. He tried to ignore the intoxicating scent of her hair. He tried to ignore the way she unconsciously snuggled against his chest. He failed miserably each time.  
Reaching the female bounty hunter's room, Spike cursed mentally as he saw that her door was closed. He kicked the door, and it miraculously opened. With a thankful grin he went in and approached her bed, sidestepping various items of clothing and other strange objects that were strewn helter-skelter about the floor. The room desperately needed to be picked up.  
Spike's shins hitting the bed alerted him to the fact that he'd reached it. It was hard to see in the gloomy semi-darkness. Ignoring the pain of his bruised legs, he carefully lowered her onto the bed, arranging her limbs in a more 'natural' position when they fell in a decidedly uncomfortable-looking manner. He pulled the sheet up over her. She didn't wake, only seemed to sigh and then was silent.  
Spike stepped towards the door, trying to avoid all the obstacles in his path, and went back into the hall. After a moment's thought, he leaned back into the room and grabbed the doorknob, intending to shut the door. As he started to pull it closed, his eyes fell on her sleeping face, and it struck him that she looked exactly like an angel. He smiled, and closed the door.

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